Only A Chlid
by Rowin
Summary: What if while Christine was with Erik in his home he found a child that could change thier lives forever? Ch. 4 is up. Sorry for the delay.
1. The Finding

I hope you enjoy this.

I don't own Erik or Christine but I do own the child.

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After the lesson he read to her. She sat next to his armchair. His voice painted the enchanted forest in her mind and she saw the fairies dance around the roses. But the images were suddenly broken by a cry and the sudden silence that came from Erik.

"Erik did you hea-"

"Shhh!"

When the sound came again Erik dropped the book and bolted out of the chair to get his cloak. Christine followed close behind him. She was afraid for her safety as well as Erik's. What if it was someone trying lure Erik out? Maybe someone had discovered him? She highly doubted it. Erik was very careful about that sort of thing.

"Erik what are you going to do?" Christine asked in a frightened voice.

"I am going to find where the source of that noise is coming from, my dear." He said in a patient voice as if she were a child. She hated it when he spoke that way to her.

"What if it's a person?"

"Well then I will have to deal with them in a way that I see fitting." By the way he spoke she could tell he had a smirk on his lips beneath the mask.

"Are you going to hurt it if it's a person?"

"Most likely."

"Oh," she cried "Erik please don't."

"Why not?"

"Because I… I am asking you not to…..and you don't know if they mean to… to…." She wasn't able to finish.

"To what?… Come down here?… Christine, one does not accidentally happen to walk down to the fifth cellar or any of it's entrances."

She knew he was right and she couldn't argue with him. He swung the cloak around his shoulders.

"I'll be back in a few minutes Christine."

"Erik," he turned a little when she called his name. "um… be careful."

"No, need to care for my safety."

"But I do care." She said quietly. With that said, he gave a sigh and looked into her eyes to see if she meant it. Her sapphire blue eyes told that she was speaking the truth.

When he spoke again it was more gentle. "Why don't you finish reading, A Land Of Violet Waterfalls."

She didn't have a chance to respond. He walked out and quickly closed the door behind him. She looked at the door for a minute, then quickly made her way to her room to get ready for bed. After she got ready for bed she went out into the study and started to read where Erik left off. Several minutes passed and she still couldn't concentrate on the book. She was too worried about Erik.

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He heard the sound again and decided to take the path that lead around the lake and would take him to the Rue Scribe entrance. As he came closer to the gate he saw three young men standing about ten feet away on the opposite side of the iron gate. They seemed to be jeering at something that was huddle against the wall. He backed up into the shadows when one of them turned and looked down the dreary passage way. When the man turned back around, Erik crept up to the gate, and opened it. He was glad now that he had oiled the hinges, so it would not make any noise opening or closing.

The screams and whimpering started again when they began kicking it. Rage filled Erik, for these were a child's cries. The sounds reminded him of when he was a child and forced to be a freak in a side-show or when his parents would beat him because he forgot to put on his mask. His hands clenched the Punjab Lasso that was beneath the folds of his cloak. It wisped through the air and a loud cracking noise was heard as the man fell to the cobble stone floor. The two others did not even realize what happened until they met the same fate as their companion.

He ran over and looked down upon the small form. It wasn't moving, it had been knocked unconscious, and was slumped over on it's side. Erik knelt down to dicover the child and noticed it was a boy from the grimy black trousers. Dirty clothes covered his thin body, then when his eyes noticed dirty rags sewn together to make a crude mask with four holes. Two little ones for the nostrils and two larger ones for his eyes. The mask covered the boy's entire head. It was almost like a sack with a tight fit as it was tied at the neck. He knew he could not leave the child here. Maybe if took him to the church….. no, they would just him give to an orphanage and then he surly would die. No, he had to bring him back to his home and clean the wounds. Then in the morning he could decided what to do with the child.

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Copyright © 2005 A. Ibarra All Rights Reserved

So what do guys think? Please RR.

I'm going to update on my other story Freak and I have some old news about the NY primer. That I'll write about in Freak.


	2. Open Wounds

I don't own Erik and Christine but I do own the boy.

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Erik gently scooped the boy up into his arms and made his way back from where he came. He was light and easy to carry. The child only stirred once in Erik's arms.

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Where was he, she thought frantically? She hoped he was all right. Even though sometimes he did frighten her half to death, she would never wish any sort of harm to him. She knew he would never harm her. Erik was kind, caring, and she also started notice how gentle he was. Her mind drifted to when he brought her to his home for the first time. She remembered seeing him clearly, when her head was on his knee, and he did not look threatening while he tenderly bathed her temples. His warm breath passed over her face, and to her recollection his hands at that moment were not as cold as death but soft and pleasant to have on her face. Her reminiscing came to a sudden end when she heard him come in and call to her.

"Christine! Get hot water, clean rags, towels, and some blankets."

"Erik wha-"

"Now please!" He didn't have time to explain.

She quickly ran to the linen closet and got what he asked for. Then she went to the kitchen and started to boil the water. While she did this, Erik put the boy on the couch. In a few minutes Erik had rekindled the fire. He took off his cloak and went into his room to get the herbs he would need to help with the boy's injuries. When he came back to the sitting room Christine was holding a bucket of the hot water in her right hand and the other things he told her to get.

"Come Christine, help me."

"Erik…" as she spoke she made her way over to him, then noticed what was on the couch, "What is going on?" She stared at the child and then looked back at Erik while he removed his dress jacket.

"This was what was making that noise." He said as began to undo his onyx cuff links and roll up his sleeves. He rolled them up a little past his elbows. She watched in amazement, for she had never seen his arms or any other part of his body. Except for his hands which he kept gloved sometimes, wrists that showed when he played the organ, his face when she ripped his mask off, and occasionally his throat was able to be seen when he wore his strange Persian garb to bed. His skin was pale from the lack of sun and she saw several scars from gashes in both of his forearms. He caught her looking at him and ignored the fascination in her eyes. She blushed and placed the things on the floor.

When Erik knelt down and started to remove the boys ripped up shirt. Christine's eyes filled with tears when she saw his chest and abdomen. Then she gasped when his back was revealed to her. The welts on the front and back were infected. A yellow-greenish puss oozed out. Some of the injuries, however, looked as if they were beginning to heal. All together they were a collected mass of swollen knots of flesh that spread along his torso.

"Christine you don't have to help. I didn't know it was going to be this bad."

"No, it's just….. how could anyone do something so horrible to a person, let alone a child…..?."

Suddenly he remembered the scars that were on his own body from when he was held captive with the gypsies. They grew faint as the years passed but they were still very visible.

"Um… Erik is there something wrong with his face?" She asked when she looked at sack that was over his head.

"Well, from my experience, I suppose he is deformed." He said the word 'deformed' as if it were something vile. She wished she hadn't asked that question.

She soaked two cloths, one for Erik and one for her. While she began washing the dirt and blood off the child's arms, Erik pulled off the boy's trousers and rags that were rapped around his feet. Christine nearly fainted when she saw the magets that embedded themselves in his ankles. Erik immediately started to pull them out with tweezers. When he was done he took the cloth and washed his feet and legs. When they finished, Erik put a gray paste on the wounds and wrapped them in gauze.

"Christine, I'm going to take off his mask. You don't have to help with this part. I don't want you to faint or scream."

"Erik….. I can do this."

"Well, the last time you saw something that disfigured…," he motioned towards himself and she lowered her head in shame. "…You had a fit."

"I'm sorry Erik… I was unprepared."

"I told you I'm used to it." He said in a bitter tone as he slowly took off the mask. She stopped breathing at the sight that befell her eyes and felt immense sympathy for this poor little boy.

The left side was untouched by the deformity. This side had smooth pale skin and the delicate features were that of a young boy. But the right side had rough skin that had a reddish tint to it in the light, with deep scars that marred his face. The ear on that side was crumpled, and the hair-line was uneven. His raven hair was matted with blood and dirt. When she looked at Erik she saw sorrow in his golden orbs.

"Christine, get a comb please."

"Of course Erik."

She retreated to her room and found a hairbrush. When she came back, Erik was carefully bathing his face. Christine knelt down once more and started washing his hair. T

Then she combed it neatly back away from his face. Erik left the room, to come back moments later with clothes. After dressing him she wondered where he had gotten them. The clothing he had brought back were a child's.

"Erik where did you get these?" she asked.

His voice tightened when he answered, "They were mine when I was around his age. You see, my mother kept everything even though my father wanted her to get rid my things." Then he laughed but it was devoid of humor, "I dare say my very first mask is somewhere in that box."

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Copyright © 2005 A. Ibarra All Rights Reserved

Please RR. Thanks.


	3. A New Face

Thank you, for all your reviews. I tried to answer all your questions in this chapter. I think this one is longer than the other two as well.

I don't own Erik or Christine but I do own the child (I would write his name in but then that would spoil it for those who wanted to know his name)

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"Christine, go to bed I'll stay up and watch him."

"But Erik, I want to help you though."

"You have helped as much as you could. Don't worry about him." Erik said. He walked to his chair and sat down. "You must rest."

"But there are no rehearsals for this week."

"How about I wake you when he gets up?"

Her face brightened "All right, good night Erik."

"Good night Christine." He said. She then walked off to her room.

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Erik watched the boy and wondered what he was going to do with him. He couldn't take him to an orphanage, church or even from where ever he came from.

Where could the child be safe and happy? A place where he didn't have to worry about his face? Somewhere where he could be himself? … Here Erik thought! There was a storage room. The boy could sleep there. He could clear it out and get a bed for him. Erik had more than enough money to buy him clothing and food. Maybe he could even… No what are you thinking Erik, he thought to himself. Children need sunlight, love, and care. Love and care he was able to do. Something he could not grant this poor boy was light… How could he give him that, when he himself couldn't go out in the day unless it was absolutely necessary?

Not only that, but his face was an issue as well. Yes, this boy had a deformity as well but it was nothing like his own. He looked like a skeleton. A hole where his nose should have been, sunken cheeks, deep set eyes, thin twisted lips, sparse hair and pale skin that was tightly pulled over his head. Erik's height and thinness didn't help with his appearance either.

The hollow gong that the grandfather clock made, told him it was midnight. Still the boy had not risen. He only stirred once and then relaxed again. Erik went to the shelf and picked out an encyclopedia on ancient civilizations and started to read it while he waited for the child to awaken.

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Music… beautiful music filled his mind as woke up. The sound came from another room. No! ... This is not where I'm supposed to be, he thought as he pushed himself up on the black leather couch. His hand instinctively went to his face… the mask was gone! … Oh no! What if someone saw me! He looked around the room with eyes that widened at the sight. Amazing was the first word that came to him.

The fireplace was large and had two black marbled griffons on both sides. There was an oil lamp on the left side of the couch. It gave off a blue glow since the glass was stained and it had a crystal rose wrapped around the base. The lamp was sitting on a mahogany side table. There was another table like that next to a large black leather sitting chair about four yards away from the couch and between the two pieces of furnishings was a coffee table made out of the same wood.

Where was he? This wasn't where he stopped to rest when those men came. He shuddered at the memory of men kicking and yelling at him. Slowly he slid his legs over the side of the couch. The fabric rubbing against his body felt different too. They felt smooth. He then came to realize that these clothes were absolutely not his. He also felt bandages underneath the clothes. His feet, coming in contact with the soft rug, made him look down. The decorations were foreign, that much he knew, but he had no idea where such a rug came from.

The music ended abruptly and the sound of a door opening made him frightened. Two voices reached him. One was a man's and the other a woman's. Both were clear, calm, and exquisite. Oh no… a woman… that meant there would be screaming and fainting! This man would surely beat him for making his lady go into hysteria. Quickly he pressed himself into the corner of the couch. He drew his knees up to his chest and covered his face and head with his thin arms.

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"Now Christine, when you hold the note…" They both stopped walking. "Christine don't be afraid of him." Erik whispered.

"I'm not afraid of him."

As gently as he could, he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy jerked away and his head snapped up. Tears coursed down his face. The sight of his eye color took both Christine and Erik away. The left was a bright green and the other a light blue.

"Please M-mmmonsieur… can I-I have my mask?" He stuttered as he looked at the man who wore a mask himself. He liked the man's mask. It was black silk and it covered his entire head, just like his. Unlike his own, his mask consisted of dirty rags sewn together.

The boy's eyes pleaded with Erik. Erik knew he could not deny the child his only source of comfort. He reached into his tailcoat and took out a mask. It was white porcelain that shone when the light hit it at the angle and it was half a mask. He was bewildered. Why would someone give him something nice like that?

"You don't need a mask here but I can understand why you might want it. So I took the measurements of your face and made it for you." When Erik was done with his answer, the child took it and placed it on his face and tied the leather straps.

The boy's eyes filled with tears but he blinked them away. "Thank y-you."

It was a perfect fit. The mask covered the mutation without interfering with any other part if his face.

"What is your name?" The woman asked. He wasn't able to answer her right away. Not only was he desperately trying to remember it but her beauty mesmerized him as well. Her hair was pulled back into a bun. Several golden locks fell around her angelic features. Her skin was a creamy white and her lips were turned up into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. But the strangest thing was that it was directed at _him_. No one ever smiled at him, not even his own mother…

"M-my name is Raven." He answered quietly.

"Like your hair." She exclaimed kindly.

"Would like something to eat, it's almost lunch time." Erik stated. Raven nodded his head.

"Good. I shall go prepare it for you and Christine." With that said, he left through another doorway. It was only Raven and Christine who were now sitting next to each other.

"Erik found you. Do you remember what happened to you?"

"Yes." He said in barely a whisper.

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Meanwhile in the kitchen, Erik was making lunch for Raven and Christine. He took out the leftover chicken from the night before out of the icebox and a peach nectar juice that he had made for Christine. He then sliced the bread and cheese that would add to a good meal. As he did this, his mind went back to the fact that he would have to question Raven. He hoped he wouldn't up set the poor boy.

"Christine and Raven you may come eat now." Erik called from the dinning room.

"Come Raven. I'm sure you'll like what Erik has made. He is a wonderful cook."

Slowly he stood up and followed her. Again the ornamentation and detail of the room made him gaze in wonder. The man named Erik pulled a chair out for Christine and motioned for him to sit next to her. There were only two table settings. He wondered why Erik wore a mask and yet he had told him that he didn't need one. Maybe this man had a disfigurement worse than his. But he was in his own home…shouldn't he feel comfortable to remove it and eat with them?

The sandwich was delicious and the juice was sweet. This was a feast compared to what he usually ate when he was at the circus. No, I can't think of that now!

The silence was unbearable to Christine, she had to say something. "Raven do you like the food?"

"Ye-yes."

"So how old are you?"

"Um… I-I'm ten I th-think." Please don't ask any more questions he thought. With his eyes glued to his plate he was too nervous to look at them.

This whole time Erik sat in silence, watching the seen in front of him. Raven was more like him then he thought. Christ, the boy didn't even know his own age. Like him, he was a freak, a complete reject to mankind just because of his face. He could not bring himself to question the boy now.

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Copyright © 2005 A. Ibarra All Rights Reserved

Please RR. Thanks.


	4. Good Boy

Please forgive me for taking so long. It took me a while to get back into the story. Anyway I'm very sorry and I hope everyone enjoys this.

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Raven fell asleep while listing to Erik read. He slumped against Christine, with a little sigh. Erik raised his eyes from the text that he had been reading when he heard what he thought was Christine falling asleep.

Christine was gently easing the child's head onto her lap where he would more comfortable. As Erik watched her tenderly, he imagined her with a beautiful baby boy on her knee and a little girl with blond hair playing with a doll at her feet. Christine's cheeks would be a rosy color, signifying good health. Her blue eyes would shine with pride and love as she looked upon her children. Without warning, Erik felt tears stinging his eyes as the image came and passed. Tears of joy, knowing that she would love her children and of sadness knowing that those children would never be his.

In a hushed whisper Christine's voice came into his mind, "Erik are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He stood abruptly and closed the book. He regained his composer as he walked over to the fireplace and spread his hands along the smooth marble top.

When he addressed her, his back was turned to her. "Christine?"

"Yes, Erik?"

"Tomorrow I am going out to get a few supplies, as well as some things for Raven."

A look of worry came across her face. "How long will you be gone?"

"Oh, not that long." He knew she hated being alone.

"You know I hate being by myself." She stated in an accusing tone.

Erik tried reasoning with her. "I know you do my dear, but I must. Besides it won't be that bad, you'll have Raven with you."

She slowly rose from her seat so as not to awaken Raven. Christine then moved a little closer to Erik. He turned to face her. She was very close to him now. It was the first time that Christine had ever come this close. If he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her face. But he dared not, for he knew she hated his hands.

In a quiet voice that trailed off she said, "It will not be the same…" Then she asked, "Why can't both of us come with you?" Her crystal blue eyes stared up at him, pleading for him not to leave her. He could not think clearly, she was standing too close to him. Then it happened, for the first time since he brought her down to his home, she reached out to him with her hand to touch him. His body stiffened when he saw her slowly reach towards him. Her hand grasped the smooth fabric of his tailcoat.

The heat from her hand seeped through the fabric of his clothes. Christine was able to feel his thin muscular frame tighten under her hand. His body cried out for more. Her soft blue eyes gazed up to meet his glowing yellow ones. He quickly averted his eyes. He didn't want her to see the lust in his golden orbs. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten Christine with his longing for her. He had to get away from her.

_Why is she doing this to me?_

He was afraid that he would lose his self-control. In one quick motion Erik pulled away from her and headed straight for his room and shut the door behind him.

When Christine heard him locking his door, she knew she would not see him for the rest of the night.

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A great amount of heat flowed through out his entire body, screaming for him to please himself.

_No I can't! _

He could not lose restraint while she was in his house. The last time he had done it while she was in his home, he had felt absolutely disgusted with himself for not having better control.

Erik paced back and forth for ten minutes trying to get his mind off of her. It didn't help.

He took several strides over to the corner of his room where he kept his only mirror. In a fury he ripped the dusty cover away. It was a full-length mirror that was very old with worn wooden carvings of ivy.

Erik proceeded to remove his clothes. The cold air stung his skin as goose bumps began to rise on his arms. His dress pants soon followed; the stark white shirt, black vest, jacket, tie, socks and his well-polished shoes. The last thing to go was his silk mask.

_I have to do this, in order to be good…_

He spared himself no time to prepare himself for what he was about to see. He snapped his head up in attention.

The deep-set sockets stared back at him to behold pale pasty skin with a jaundice-like-yellowish tint to it. He was able to count three ribs jutting out on his left and right side. Erik reached up with a bony finger to trace the hollow abdomen. His thin chest heaved with disgust as he continued to study his skeletal form. His long lanky, arms and legs began to shake.

Shame filled his entire being. Falling to his knees he cried out in anguish. He cried out against the rejection that was beaten into his soul and in that very moment his dream of acceptance from Christine was crushed yet again. Tears ran down his high cheekbones as he rose from the floor and walked over to the mirror to cover it.

He slipped on a black velvet robe and wiped his tears away with it's sleeve. He then found a pair a cotton night pants. Slowly he made his way over to his bed, his coffin. Gently resting his head against the soft pillow he pulled up a soft scarlet blanket. His form started to relax and soon an exhausted sleep took over his body. Dreams of the past came to him…

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"Mama! Mama! … Erik took off his mask again." Henri shouted into the kitchen from the back door.

It was the third time that week that he had removed his mask in front of his brothers. Jacquiline followed her eldest son out into the garden that was behind the house. Her other three sons were also outside tending to the garden. As she came closer to the garden she was able to hear Jacque, the youngest of the four, crying uncontrollably. _He_ scared them again, she thought.

Why did he have to take it off in front of them?

Why couldn't he just listen and do as she and her husband, Marcus, asked?

Erik was several yards away. He was hunched over tending to the rose bushes. Those were his favorite. His grayish tinted cloth mask was lying on the ground in the dirt.

"Erik! What have I told you!" She yelled. The little boy was startled. He wasn't expecting her to come out so quickly. "Why did you take the mask off!"

Scrambling to pick up his mask, his tiny fingers fumbled with the strings on the back of the mask. When he turned to answer her it fell off. In his rush to put it on he did not tie it correctly. Jacque gave another wail of horror and flung himself into his mother's wool skirts.

"Erik, see what you did? Your making your little brother cry! Now do as I say and put that damn mask on!" She than patted Jacque's head.

Erik's malformed lips pouted. "But Mama, it is so hot today…" His voice died in his throat. The stares of disgust he received from his mother and brothers made him want to cry.

The next thing his mother said to him was in a harsh whisper. "Erik… do you want to see the monster?"

_No, not the monster again! _

"Mama please don't make me see the monster!" he cried. Without warning, she reached out and grabbed his arm. She squeezed his arm so hard that his hollow eye sockets glistened with fearful tears.

"You should have listened to me when I told you the first time." Roughly she yanked him away from his brothers and dragged him back to the house.

"Mama! Mama please don't… I'll put the mask on! I'll put the mask on!" He cried.

Jacquiline was unmoved by her third son's pleas for mercy. He was going to get what he deserved she thought.

"Henri come over here to help me!" She shouted. Henri followed her the rest of the way to the house. "Oh, and Eugene take care of Jacque!"

"Henri dear, please go up stairs and take the dust cover off the mirror."

She was going to teach this little monster a lesson he'll never forget. Henri came back from upstairs.

"I took it off Mama."

"Good. Now help me get him upstairs."

Erik continued to scream and cry. Begging for them not to show him the monster. Upon reaching the second floor, they forced him into an unused room. Henri closed the door behind them.

Jacquiline then pushed Erik to the floor. "Get up you little beast!" He shook his head in response. "Fine then." She reached for him and jerked him up from the floor. Her hands ripped the thin material from his torso. He didn't understand what she was doing. Her hands then moved to the waistband on his pants. She pulled them down along with his under garments. He just stood there, not knowing what to do. When his brother started to laugh, he began to feel embarrassed. He moved his hands to cover himself but she slapped his hands away.

"Henri, turn it around." Henri walked over to the mirror and moved it forward. She pushed Erik forward. He stumbled towards the mirror and lifted his head. Tears blurred what he saw before him.

"This is what every one sees when they look at you! They see an ugly dirty little freak!"

Henri kept laughing at him while he cried. He never really studied his body before. His four-year old mind was just beginning to grasp the burden that he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Erik realized that he would have to deal with this face and body everyday and he was frightened at the thought of it. He didn't want this face or body. Erik fell to the floor and wrapped his arms around him. He rocked back and forth as if it would help heal the damage that had been done.

Still shouting she continued, "If you ever take that mask off again I'll show the mirror again in this same way! Do you understand me! Do you?"

He was taking in gulps of air. "Y-yes, I-I… un-understand. I w-won't e-ev-ever take off the m-mask… a-again."

Then with a sudden sweetness she said with a smile, "You see Erik, when I show the mirror you learn to be a good boy… a good boy," she said with a smile. Jacquiline knew that she and the family wouldn't have to deal with his face anymore.

"I-I'll be… a-a go-good boy. I w-won't ever t-take off the… mask… I s-swear," Erik whimpered.

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Copyright © 2005 A. Ibarra All Rights Reserved

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Yes, I know a little disturbing. Please R&R. Thanks.


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